


Classic Plays

by x_los



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 10:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6281104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_los/pseuds/x_los
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon is calculating risks and advantages; everyone else is trying to watch a damn movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classic Plays

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Elviaprose
> 
> It is 4am. Twenty minutes ago, Elviaprose was trolling the wasteland that is OTP Prompts, c/ping random ones. "Imagine Person A attempting and failing to do the movie move (arm over the shoulder at a theater) because of anxiety, only to have Person B grab their arm and put it around them." So this happened. Siiiigh.

Gan and Jenna’s recently instituted weekly Liberator Film Night was thus far proving popular. Gan contributed:

  1. action movies about noble pioneers to the out-worlds and the desperados of the frontier, and
  2. passionate romances (Avon was slightly disturbed to discover that he and Gan apparently had highly compatible taste in films).



Jenna seemed fairly keen on the first category, but made a token effort to class things up on occasion with something that had won an award at one of the major Teal festivals (Earth’s film industry being so propaganda-based that even people who didn’t share Blake’s political convictions wouldn’t have wanted to watch the stuff for fun) or was getting good press. Though Avon had a distinct suspicion that tonight’s aspirational offering was not entirely her fault. Blake’s expression betrayed nothing, but Avon paid enough attention to Blake that even his blankness was very telling. Blake could talk them into raiding weapon manufacturing facilities; he could certainly badger an Improving Film onto the roster (covertly, so Vila didn't pipe up again about whether _he_ got a turn to subject them all to the awful-sounding physical comedies he kept threatening them with).

Film Night had to take place on the flight deck so whoever was technically On Watch could take part, but that was where the good couch was anyway. Avon was currently sitting rigid on said couch. It was easy for him to glance at Blake’s nothing-expression because Blake was seated next to him. Avon had arranged this deliberately—coming in early and finding Blake there first, as usual. Sitting down a casual distance away from him. Just so happening to scoot over next to Blake when the others arrived.

Avon watched the film, his fingers drumming on his thigh. He stilled them. His hand twitched slightly. He clenched it in his lap.

Avon found it difficult to talk about certain subjects. There were things he would rather demonstrate than discuss. Right now he felt inclined to such a demonstration, but of course the _time_ wasn’t yet right. He needed information he didn’t have. Frustrated, he fidgeted.

With a slight exhalation, not quite a sigh, Blake suddenly grabbed Avon’s restless arm and slung it over his shoulder. Avon went even stiffer—like petrified wood.

“You are ruining _Ran_ ,' Blake said quietly and levelly, his eyes fixed on the screen. The conversation was relatively private: Blake’s voice was pitched low, under the roar of a battle scene, and besides, he and Avon were sitting much closer than the others. “It’s supposed to be an excellent adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Lear”, it’s certainly considered Kurosawa's master work, I’ve finally managed to con other humans into watching it with me, and I can't concentrate on it because you keep twitching.”

Avon opened his mouth to retort, but Blake headed him off by continuing.

“Though I should warn you, my shoulders are fairly broad, and I don't know how comfortable this will be for either of us in another minute.”

Only the slight twitch at the side of Blake's mouth indicated that he thought anything about this was at all unusual or funny.

“If it becomes uncomfortable, you could always adjust your spine,” Avon offered after a moment.

“You mean I can put my head on your shoulder,” Blake corrected without missing a beat.

“Yes,” Avon said, having decided that he would be exactly as embarrassed about this as Blake seemed to be (which was to say, not even slightly).

“Or _you_ could,” Blake countered, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I,” Avon said with immense dignity, “have a bad back. I don't curl.”

Blake finally bothered to give Avon a Speaking Look.

Avon raised an eyebrow and didn't blink.

Deliberately and elaborately, Blake scooted down and dropped his head on Avon's shoulder. “Do you feel _very_ butch now?” he asked politely.

“Shut up Blake,” Avon said crisply, curling his fingers around Blake’s shoulder with satisfaction.

Avon liked _Ran_. In part because it was a visually stunning meditation on pride, power, revenge and the awfulness of facing a cruel and indifferent universe alone, without the support of people you could trust, and in part because it was very long.


End file.
